


Selfish

by insomnia_writer



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Depression, Fighting, Insecurity, Laflams, Lams - Freeform, Laurette - Freeform, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Polyamory, Self-Esteem Issues, Smoking, hamlaf, just a lot of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 10:27:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11011572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insomnia_writer/pseuds/insomnia_writer
Summary: Alexander was selfish, he believed that the whole world revolved around him. Not a single thing could happen that wasn’t happening because somewhere down he had made a shit decision which knocked everything out of place. This melancholy view of the world forced him to build up walls, but sometimes it got a bit too much to bear.





	Selfish

**Author's Note:**

  * For [one_golden_sun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/one_golden_sun/gifts).



Alexander was selfish, he believed that the whole world revolved around him. Not a single thing could happen that wasn’t happening because somewhere down he had made a shit decision which knocked everything out of place. This view of the world was what often pushed friends away from Hamilton, pushed everyone away from Hamilton.

If he had been a better son, then his father wouldn’t have left. There was no other logical reason to why his drunk, abusive, deadbeat dad would have disappeared for good. It had been all those nights Alex forced him to read a bedtime story or made his dad kiss him goodnight, they were what broke his family.

If he had been a better son, then his mother wouldn’t be dead. He got sick first after all, and she wouldn’t have fallen under the illness too if Alexander just hadn’t cried about the pain so much. If he had just sucked it up and pretended that he could breathe fine through the coughing fits, she wouldn’t have held him, she wouldn’t have rubbed his back, she wouldn’t have been sick, she wouldn’t be dead.

If he had been a better kid, then his cousin wouldn’t have committed suicide. His cousin wasn’t ready to become a parent after all. He was only twenty, had just started his life, barely made enough money to feed one, let alone two. It was this money crisis that made his cousin turn to gambling. It was this gambling that got him in deep debt. It was this debt that took him to the end of his rope.

That made the body count two. Alexander Hamilton deep down believed that he had single handedly murdered two people, but of course he would never admit that. Lafayette and John, his beautiful boyfriends, would never understand what he was feeling, and so he hid it all. He buried every guilty, self-loathing thought deep down inside himself. The problem was that no matter how hard Alex tried, it all bubbled to the surface. The repression was eating him from the inside out, bringing a never-ending sense of numbness in its path.

The only way to fight the numbness, Hamilton discovered, was through pain. He began to crave it so dearly, a punishment for all the unspoken atrocities that he had committed since birth. He developed unhealthy habits, sneaking out of the house late at night and crawling into the nearest bar, punching the largest man in there and waiting for the beating to come. John was always so frantic when Alex came home covered in his own blood, fixing him up with band aids and gauze. Lafayette however always hung back, watched his baby boy take care of his little lion, a disappointed frown practically etched into his features.

“You have to tell me why you do this” Laf would try to reason, so obviously doing his best not to raise his voice. John was sleeping on their bed only two feet away and waking him meant having to drop the argument for the moment and console the man who spent most of his time in little space nowadays. Again, much like everything else in life, Hamilton knew that it was his fault. If he had just accepted the numbness, then his boyfriend wouldn’t be so stressed and wouldn’t feel the need to constantly escape into his own head.

“I’ve told you Laf, it’s not my fault. I--” Alexander was quickly cut off by Lafayette who was practically fuming. “Not your fault mon cher? Not your fault? Tell me then whose fault is it? Because I know you and I know that you always throw the first punch. You’re stressing me out, you’re worrying john to death”.

Ouch. Those two small words. To death. It stung more than Alex thought that Laf realized. He shrunk back into himself, any chance of putting up a fight completely gone. Gil sighed, ran a hand over his tired face, and turned to get in bed with Laurens. Hamilton tried to follow but one pissed off look made him stop. “Six times in the past two months Hamilton. Six times. This is not acceptable. You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”  
“but--”  
“No. I love you mon cher but I will not stand here and watch you destroy yourself. Consider this to be your punishment: I will not touch you, I will not coddle you, you will not sleep in the same bed as us until you understand what you are doing to us. I have tried to help you but it feels as though I am all out of options, so go”. Alexanders mouth hung open momentarily but then shut again, as though all the fire within him had just been stomped out. He didn’t blame Lafayette. This was his fault after all, his boyfriend was just stressed and didn’t know what to do. Alex let his head hang as he walked out of the room, feet dragging along the floor. They felt heavier than normal, and picking them up completely would require a strength that he simply didn’t have. 

The couch was cold, lonely. Hamilton just wanted to scream and sob and beg his boyfriends not to push him away. He had been doing all of this because he had felt like he was drowning. He wanted someone to save him, not to push his head under. The tears kept coming to the back of his eyes but he never dared let them spill, simply repressed them just like he had repressed everything else. 

It was no wonder that no one could love him, he was pretty pathetic after all. Everything he did seemed to contradict himself: building up walls and then begging for attention, complaining about being hungry but never eating, ranting about world peace but solving his problems with violence. Honestly the most surprising thing was that someone had loved him for so long. Five years. It was only a matter of time before he fucked it all up.

When the morning came, alexander was still on the couch, but there was no longer the sweet silence of the night. There were tiny gasps and moans coming from the bedroom. There was a small breathy “please daddy” every few seconds and Hamilton couldn’t shake from his mind the image of what was going on. John was probably on his back, heads tied to the headboard, Lafayette nestled between his legs, sucking his cock, maybe eating him out. It had been so long since he had slept one on one with Laf, and he missed it, but there was no chance that it was ever going to happen again, because John was Gils favorite, no matter what he always said.

Alex tried to make breakfast but the second that he opened the drawer to get a spoon, his eyes lingered just a bit too long on their nice knives, and Hamilton slammed it closed, vowing not to open it again. That would get their attention though, if Alexander walked into the room where they were making love with two deep gashes down his wrists, blood spilling everywhere. They wouldn’t be able to ignore him then.

No. He wouldn’t do that to them. It was too selfish, just like everything else. He pulled out his laptop, more moans. He tried to write, more begging. He eventually gave up, skin hitting skin so beautifully. Alexander couldn’t take it anymore and slammed the computer shut, grabbed a pack of cigarettes from under the couch cushion which he kept for ‘emergencies only’, and stumbled out to their small balcony. 

Inhale. Exhale. It was so simple, so methodical. There was no way that Alex could mess up. There was no way that he could ruin anyone else’s life but his own. It was perfect, until it wasn’t. The door opened and out walked Lafayette wearing nothing more than a pair of sweatpants, still looking far too tired for his own good. “Didn’t know you smoked”  
“Didn’t know you gave a shit” Hamilton bit back, praying that Gil didn’t see the way that he was shaking, the way his voice sounded that it was biting back tears with every syllable. “Of course I care you idiot. I love you. I don’t want you dead”.  
“No, of course you don’t, you just don’t want me. You just don’t want to touch me, don’t want to sleep next to me, don’t want to see me, but you don’t want me dead because it would make you feel guilty. Boy, however you think you would feel, let me tell you that it is a million times worse. Knowing that people are dead because of you is really fucking shitty”.

Then, all of a sudden, it clicked, and Lafayette realized just how badly he fucked up. “Mon lion” he whispered quietly, reaching out towards his boyfriend, who flinched away as though he was scared of being hit. The worried expression john usually wore seemed to have found a new face, and Gil stared at his own hands in disgust in a true Lady Macbeth fashion. He stepped backwards until he was in the apartment and after a few seconds, a disgruntled John emerged, obviously fresh out of the bath. 

“Al” Laurens hummed softly, a much less intimidating aura to him. “Come on baby, put the cigarette down. It’s cold out outside”. When Alex didn’t move, John stepped forward and ever so gently took it from him, dropping it to the floor and stepping it out. After a little more coaxing, Hamilton followed his boyfriend through the door and right to the bedroom, holding his hand the entire way. Laf just watched from behind the kitchen counter, eyes already red and puffy.

“I didn’t mean to make you guys hate me” he whispered and John shook his head, climbing onto the bed and letting alexander climb into his arms, holding the smallest of the three tight. “Nonsense cariño. Laf has just been going through a lot, he was stressed, he didn’t mean whatever he said to you”. The soft beating of Johns heart did something to Hamilton, and out of nowhere, it felt like everything that had been building up inside of him was pounding against his head and without warning the sobs finally came. Months of pent up emotions spilling out at once as he cried into his boyfriend’s chest. And for the first time in a while, it felt like someone was actually there for him, and that was a beautiful feeling.

**Author's Note:**

> Important Note: I am aware I made Lafayette a bit of an ass in this, but I very much did that on purpose. In this universe, Laf is always portrayed as the perfect boyfriend and I really wanted to write it where just once, he did something wrong. He still obviously loves Alex very much, and he really did not mean to hurt him, but no one is always perfect.  
> I also wanted to write something where for once, john saves the day instead of being saved. So often Laurens is made to look like a weak character but actual John Laurens was strong af.  
> Im super sorry @one_golden_sun if you hate it. I tried my best considering im running on like no sleep.


End file.
